Star Dust (Force Of Gravity Book 1)

by Ali Winters

  Oriana turned her gaze to the door in the distance. She focused on the shape and color, the way the snow drifts shifted in the breeze that picked up. Anything other than his dark, soul penetrating, eyes and the stuttered beat of her heart at his proximity. His clean musky scent filled her nose as she inhaled a deep breath.

  “Look at me,” he said, almost pleadingly.

  She dropped her eyes and pretended to examine his shirt. A light dusting of snow began to fall, clinging to him.

  He tilted her chin up and leaned into her.

  “Look at me,” he commanded in a firmer voice.

  Slowly she lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. Her eyes darted to his lips, a hint of his smirk forming, lifted her gaze further to meet his eyes. His intense gaze locked onto hers. A lump formed in her throat as she swallowed thickly.

  Lucian leaned in close, and his hot breath fanned across her cheek.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  “Go home, Lucian.” She shook his grip off her shoulders. “It’s over—there’s nothing left to do.” Her boots crunched through the snow as she walked away from him.

  “What?” He jogged up to her and cut her off. “What do you mean there’s nothing left to do? What happened?”

  “You would know if you’d been here,” she snapped.

  How can he come back and act like a simple “sorry” would fix things?

  “Oriana… I know I should have been here. I regret it more than you will ever know.”

  There was something in his voice that kept her feet rooted in place. She didn’t want to be mad at him anymore, she wanted things to go back to how they were. The loneliness was catching up to her and now she was heading back to Soleis for the first time since she’d left. Doubt over her ability to keep it together, screamed in her head. Having him by her side would keep her from collapsing, he would make sure she survived the pain.

  But what if he leaves again?

  She wanted to hold on to the anger, to the pain. She didn’t want to let it go. But the longer he stood next to her, the faster it slipped away.

  Her eyes dropped to her hand in his. He’d taken it in his, intertwining their fingers—or had she grabbed his? It didn’t matter. She needed the comfort right now, and she would take it. Looking up into his expectant eyes, her lip quivered.

  “I don’t want to go back,” she admitted.

  “What happened, Oriana?” Lucian asked, pulling her into a hug and resting his chin on the crown of her head.

  “No one was there. It was empty,” she breathed, defeat hanging heavy on her words.

  “They were attacked?”

  “No,” she shook her head. “It was abandoned. I think they were able to escape before whoever it was, attacked.” Oriana mumbled into his arm as her ear pressed against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

  He gripped her shoulders, ending the comforting embrace. Ducking his head, he examined her expression. Oriana dropped her chin, avoiding his gaze.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She inhaled a sharp breath and held it.

  “You don’t want to go home.” Lucian said softly and pulled her back against his chest. His tone was gentle, and full of understanding. “It’s okay to cry, Oriana.”

  Everything came rushing back. She thought she’d cried until there was nothing left. But there was more. The comfort of his arms weakened the wall around her heart, the wall she’d built as she lay in the snow. Swallowing, she pushed the fear and pain back down. The emotions that threatened to rise to the surface and drown her again were held back by a thin wall that would crumble if she didn’t lock them away.

  “No, I can’t.”

  “It won’t make you weak—”

  “No! Don’t you get it?” She pulled back, her forehead creasing as she asked, “If I cry now, I’m afraid I’ll never be able to stop.”

  Lucian nodded and pulled her into him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you.” His hand caressed the back of her head in a soothing gesture. “I’m here with you. You don’t have to do this alone.”

  She pulled in long, even breaths, steadying her emotions, and allowed Lucian to hold her for as long as she needed, protecting her against the harsh cold of the night.

  Eventually, Oriana pulled away. “We should go,” she whispered hoarsely.

  Oriana’s hand froze on the handle of the door leading back to Soleis. What waited for them on the other side?

  “Do you want me to do it?” Lucian’s concerned voice asked.

  “No,” she said, gritting her teeth.

  Yes, she thought.

  Of course, I don’t want to do it. But I need to. I have to…

  “Are you sure? You’ve been holding onto that door with a death grip for a while now.”

  “I’m just preparing myself,” she said, her eyes locked onto her hand straining with the strength of her hold on the handle.

  After a moment, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Take your time, Oriana.”

  She had to go back, if for no other reason to confirm what she already knew. The night of the attack, the men had said everyone had been killed, but there was only one death she’d confirmed for herself. Her heart ached at the memory of her friend who had been there for her as she’d grown.

  “Celeste…”

  “Who?” Lucian asked, startling her.

  Oriana paled, not realizing she’d spoken aloud. Her hand pressed down on the handle and let go as if she’d been burned. The door creaked open.

  Lucian said nothing but slid his hand, reassuringly, into hers. Her eyes went to their hands, then up to his face, her blood thrumming through her veins at his touch.

  The slight smile that graced his lips sent a flair of warmth up her spine. His eyes showed that he had every confidence in her—and something else… Something she couldn’t identify. Oriana turned back to the open door. Dim light poured over them.

  Her eyebrows pulled together in confusion, and she looked back at Lucian.

  “Something’s not right,” She murmured, pushing the door open a little further to peek into the room.

  Lucian grabbed her arm and pulled her back through, spinning her to face him. “What isn’t right Oriana?”

  “T—the light—the castle was dark the night I left. Someone must have escaped and come back.” She wiggled out of his grip.

  “They could have, but it might be the people who attacked. You can’t assume anything just yet.”

  Oriana’s face drained of color. With just a few words, the hope she’d held onto without realizing it, crashed down around her. The light that, for a split second, symbolized hope and relief, now weighed heavy on her and filled her with dread.

  “You’re right. Thank you,” she said, her voice strained with sorrow.

  Oriana cleared her throat. “It was silent, I didn’t see or hear anyone, we should be able to sneak in through the hidden passageway. It’s doubtful that anyone else would know how to access it other than my family.”

  “Okay, let’s check once more then we’ll make a run for it. Do you know how to open it?”

  Oriana nodded.

  As he reached out to the door to open it, her hand shot to his arm stopping him.

  “We need to get a candle. The passage is dark.”

  “Right. You open the passage; I’ll grab the light.” He smiled down at her, opened his mouth then closed it, looking away.

  He pushed the door open and peeked out. Silence greeted them. He waved his hand, signaling for her to follow. Oriana rushed past him and crossed the room to the roaring fireplace.

  The room had been cleared of busted up furniture and cleaned to a useable state. Grey cloth was draped over the back of the sofa, various holes in the crystal walls and floor were filled with a dull gray substance.

  Who did all of this?

  She crossed the room to the fireplace seeing the strange repairs to her home. Pressing her delicate fingers along the mantel and the crystal stone tiles that lined th
e base. She traced the inside.

  “What are you doing?” Lucian asked, walking behind her.

  “It’s right… here.” She pressed down on a notch in the tile that faced the fire. The heat from the burning logs singed her skin. She jerked her arm back and stood, watching a small opening appear on the wall next to her.

  Voices sounded down the corridor, echoing through the halls. They froze in place, her eyes darted to Lucian’s face.

  “Who’s here?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know… their accents are different. They aren’t Soleisan.”

  “Let’s go,” he said, and led her through. “We can figure it out from somewhere safe.”

  The door slid shut behind them as the voices grew louder.

  Oriana rested her back against the wall and leaned her head back, letting out a breath she’d been holding. A shudder passed over her. “Okay.” She pushed away from the wall and headed down the long corridor. The light followed behind her, letting her know Lucian was close behind.

  They climbed the stairs and entered the hidden study. The small coffee table slid back into place, covering their entrance.

  “This is nice,” Lucian said wryly at the dim study.

  “It works.”

  “For a safe room, a lot of thought has been put into the decor.”

  “Yours isn’t the same?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “No idea, I’ve never had reason to check it out.” Setting the candelabra down on the table, he plopped on the couch and stretched out.

  “Shouldn’t we keep going?” she asked. There was no way to know who’s voice they heard, but she was eager to find out.

  “I think we should check the dungeons first.”

  “We don’t have dungeons.”

  “All the castles do, they might not be in use anymore, but they were built in thousands of years ago when the palaces were constructed. They were used centuries ago before the Inner Ring planets formed alliances.”

  “How do we find it?”

  Lucian let out an exasperated sigh. Standing, he walked over to her, his eyes softened as his fingers grazed her chin.

  “Oriana, how are you expected to rule if you don’t know these things?” He asked softly.

  Oriana

  Oriana blinked. His fingers tugged gently on a strand of black hair that rested on her shoulder. His warm mahogany eyes sparkled good-naturedly. But Lucian was right; there was so much she would have to learn if she wanted to call herself a queen someday. He was the gravity that kept her grounded when the chaos threatened to pull her into a black hole of despair.

  “We thought I had time,” she breathed out. There was no way anyone could have predicted the attacks. There had always been time in the minds of her parents, time to make her into the next ruler of Soleis.

  “Well, if I learned anything from my time on Venus, it’s that it’s in plain sight. But that means making it to the main level. We need to find blueprints.”

  Oriana shook her head and stepped back. “No, I know how to get there. I might not know about a dungeon, but I know this castle like the back of my hand. There is only one door I’ve never gone through. That has to be where we need to go.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “You just avoided one door in your home your entire life? That seems… odd.”

  “I didn’t try to avoid it. It was always guarded. I just couldn’t get past the Citali.” She shrugged. “It would make sense if that’s where the door led.”

  “Good.” He watched her, and when she didn’t move, he added, “Lead the way.”

  Moving across the room to the wall with the exit, she pressed a crystal brick with a small notch chipped from the corner. A door slid open.

  “You’re getting good at this,” Lucian said, next to her. Her brows quirked, unsure if he was making fun of her now. He was standing closer to her than he used to. If she had swayed, her whole side would come into contact with his.

  “This will take us to the Queen’s library. If it’s clear, we can go out the door and to the left. There’s a spiral staircase there. It leads to the main level, next to the door,” she paused, looking uncertain. “That has to be it, right? I’ve been everywhere else.”

  “Don’t worry, Oriana, we will find it, even if this isn’t it.”

  She fingered the pendant resting against her chest, winding, and unwinding the chain around her finger. Her eyes darted around the room to the candelabra Lucian had brought with them. She rushed to pick it up, then moving past him, she hurried up the winding corridor.

  It was better this time and not as suffocating, but she had light… and Lucian now. Also, as far as she knew, whoever was in the castle didn’t know they were there.

  They walked in silence up the winding corridor—Oriana leading the way. This was it. They were finally going to learn the identity of who had done this. Her head swam, full of anxiety that blurred the edges of her vision and she started to feel her legs waver beneath her as the exhaustion rolled in like the waves of bottomless Neptunian seas.

  “Oriana?” Lucian’s voice came from far away, concerned.

  She turned, the candelabra slipping from her grasp. Her spine slammed against the hard stone surface as she fell, knocking the air from her lungs.

  “Oriana?” Lucian’s voice sounded so far, but his face wavered and blurred before her eyes. Turning her head, she focused on the bright orange light of the candelabra as the single flame danced within the glassy daze of her pupils, now dilating as she slipped from consciousness. She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Her tongue darted out to lick her dry lips as pain radiated from the back of her head and haloed around her.

  Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the cool hand, stroking her forehead.

  Oriana woke with a start, jerking upright. The pain in the back of her head stung as nausea flooded through her, forcing her to slowly lower her head backwards.

  “Shhh, Oriana, don’t move. You hit your head.” Lucian’s arms wrapped around her, enveloping her in warmth.

  “Wha—what happened?” she asked hoarsely.

  “You fainted.” He shifted her in his arms so she could face him. “You haven’t been sleeping.”

  It wasn’t a question. Oriana averted her eyes. “I’m afraid to sleep. I hear the voices crying out for help… and the screams. They never stop.” Why was she admitting this to him now? Why couldn’t she stop?

  She told him about the nightmares, the voices and the smell of smoke that haunted her at night.

  “Rest. We are safe here,” he whispered, his hand coming up to stroke her head, smoothing her hair back from her face.

  Oriana nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head against his chest, clinging to him as though he would keep everything bad away. Once more she had become enraptured in his arms, like a moon caught in the gravity of a strong and noble planet, bound together for security in the never-ending empty vacuum of space. She knew now, she too, could tug at his heart, like the pull of the Earthen lunar cycle over deep tides. She listened to that same heart beat against her ear in a steady rhythm and the warming, musky scent of tea-tree relaxed her. She tried not to fall into sleep’s gravity but his presence soothed her too much. Slowly she fell back into the darkness of a slumber.

  She woke, minutes or hours later, her body stiff and her head pounding. Despite all his attempts at getting her to rest longer, she insisted they continue to move. The Queen’s library had been in the same state she’d left it in, turned over chairs, books carelessly tossed around, scorch marks on the walls and floor. Drawers from the desk had been ripped out and emptied, before being thrown across the room.

  The upstairs hall was silent.

  Oriana peaked through a small opening in the door. The hall was empty. Hurrying down the passageway to the circular staircase, they kept their backs against the wall, using the decorative curtains hanging against the walls for cover. Lucian kept an eye open, for anything behind them as she guided the way.
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  They descended the stairs, crouching low as she peaked around the banister and scanned the area. No signs of movement anywhere.

  Quickly, Oriana straightened and opened the door, allowing them to pass through before closing it quietly behind them. Sconces lined the walls at regular intervals, keeping the narrow staircase dimly lit and Oriana glanced at Lucian. How had she never known?

  Listening for any signs of life, they stood still, hardly daring to breathe. The silence was thick, casting an eerie blanket over them. She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed against the grain of her thin, downy hairs.

  Not wanting to be caught in case someone walked through the door soon after, they moved forward, descending to a deep underground level she’d naively thought hadn’t existed.

  At the base of the stairs, a long corridor ended in a fork, with two paths leading in opposite directions. They followed the narrow passage, keeping their backs to the wall, using every shadow they could find to hide in. Deep voices murmured in the distance and at the corner, three broad pillars supported the low ceiling. They turned to the right and inched their way further down, staying out of the light as much as possible.

  A groan came from the cell across from them. Oriana stopped, her heart pounding in her chest. Prisoners?

  Her hand shot out and gripped Lucian’s, stopping him. With a jerk of her head, she motioned in the direction of the distressed groaning.

  Bending down, Lucian picked up a small stone and flicked it into the cell. It bounced, echoing off the floor. A long silence greeted them, then a quiet rustling.

  “Who’s there?” a raspy male voice whispered.

  Oriana and Lucian didn’t move. A figure shifted into the dim lighting at the front edge of the cell. Strong hands, covered in dirt gripped the metallic crystal bars. Seven black lines tattooed on his left wrist visible through the grime, symbolizing the seven rings of Saturn. Tan hair with yellow streaks fell, disheveled, across his bright yellow eyes.

  “King Torvlad,” Oriana stepped into the light toward the man. Her brows drew together as Lucian gripped her wrist. She twisted out of his grasp and fell to her knees in front of the man.